AGN -Chapter 119 Liang Zhu (Part 5)

After parking the car in the underground garage, Qin Huai originally planned to go straight home and rest. But Luo Jun insisted otherwise, suspecting that Qin Huai would secretly go home to view his memory. He demanded that Qin Huai drive him home and view the memory there instead.

Regarding Luo Jun’s extreme lack of trust, Qin Huai could only say:

He had a very accurate eye for people.

After Luo Jun sent Zhang Shumei out to buy another pot of spider plants, Qin Huai opened the game interface.

A new main quest had appeared in the mission panel.

[King of Signature Dishes]: As a newly established shop that has gained a foothold, having a few signature dishes that earn unanimous praise from customers will be the foundation for your future reputation. Please ensure Yunzhong Canteen has 5 daily-selling signature items with a rating of no less than 98% satisfaction, and at least 1,000 customers who consider each of them the best version of that dish they’ve ever eaten.

Quest Rewards: +1000 popularity boost, [A fragment of ???’s dream] (Choice: Yes/No)

Qin Huai had realized by now that the “???” in quest rewards always referred to characters whose illustrated profiles he had not yet unlocked. The system gave him no loopholes at all—without unlocking the character profiles, it was impossible to “preview” or target them in advance.

After accepting the main quest [King of Signature Dishes], he could check progress within the quest panel.

The good news: the canteen already had two qualifying signature items—fermented rice steamed buns and chenpi (dried citrus peel) tea.

The bad news: there was no clue at all for the remaining three.

Qin Huai felt that San Ding Bao and Wu Ding Bao were probably out of the question. Although delicious, they were relatively common dim sum from the Huaiyang region, and many shops sold them. Unless his culinary skills were far superior, it would be very difficult for such items to become “the best in customers’ minds.” After all, taste is subjective.

Still, it was a main quest—no need to rush.

The characters tied to the rewards hadn’t even appeared yet. He would worry about it when they did.

After reviewing the main quest, Qin Huai shifted his gaze to Luo Jun, who was comfortably leaning on the sofa, eating fruit while watching TV.

“Do you have anything you want to tell me in advance?” Qin Huai asked.

“No,” Luo Jun replied, eyes fixed on the TV, not even sparing him a glance.

Qin Huai took a look—it seemed to be a newly released xianxia drama.

Luo Jun really loved this genre.

“Then… I’m going to view the memory,” Qin Huai said.

“Go ahead. It’s not like I can stop you, can I?”

Ignoring Luo Jun’s sarcastic tone, Qin Huai clicked on [A fragment of Luo Jun’s memory].

He selected “Yes.”

Memory loading—

“Boyan, today Chef Jiang made your favorite mian-guo’er (pastry fruits). I bought a few of each.”

“Why have you been calling me that name lately?”

“Because I didn’t know your courtesy name was Boyan before. I think calling you by your courtesy name feels more intimate. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“It was just something I made up when I returned to the country. Too much trouble.”

“It’s not troublesome at all. It sounds very nice.”

As soon as Qin Huai entered the memory, he saw Liu Tao’s smiling face.

At this point in time, Liu Tao looked noticeably older than when she was still performing opera. Her hair was styled into a bun, giving her the appearance of a married woman, and her qipao was darker in color, appearing more composed and mature.

In her hands, she carried a food box. On her wrist was a jade bracelet, her earrings were set with gemstones, she wore a pearl necklace, and even the hair accessories were gold and gem-studded. Compared to the time of their first movie date—when she had worn all her troupe’s jewelry at once—she now looked even more opulent.

Qin Huai began to survey the house.

The house wasn’t very large, with two floors. On the second floor were a bedroom, a study, a storage room, and a bathroom. The first floor contained the living room and kitchen, with a courtyard outside.

The décor was relatively simple. It couldn’t compare to the luxurious interiors of places like the Richard Hotel with wool carpets covering everything, but for its time, it would still be considered quite affluent.

There wasn’t much furniture in the living room—just an antique display shelf, two cabinets, a table, and two sofas. Everything else was piled high with newspapers.

The cabinets in the living room were filled with novels, likely because the study upstairs had no more space.

Luo Jun, dressed in a shirt, sat on the sofa reading a newspaper. This scene was almost identical to the Luo Jun Qin Huai had seen just moments ago watching TV—an exact replica.

Liu Tao placed the food box on the table, went to the kitchen to fetch plates, arranged them one by one, and then opened the box, placing the mian-guo’er onto the plates.

After she finished, Luo Jun had also finished reading the serialized novel in the newspaper. He put it down and looked at the pastries on the plates.

There were many types of mian-guo’er:

Apples, oranges, pears, apricots, hawthorns, persimmons, peaches, golden berries, jujubes, chestnuts, white radish, pomelo, carrots, pumpkin, walnuts, peanuts.

They varied in quality—the apple looked the most realistic, while the pomelo looked the worst. At a glance, the colorful assortment was quite eye-catching.

The pomelo was the largest and also the least realistic. Luo Jun glanced at it and immediately complained:

“What is this?”

“A new pomelo made by Chef Jiang,” Liu Tao replied.

“I’ve seen unpeeled pomelos before—they don’t look anything like this. If he can’t make it properly, he shouldn’t waste flour.” Luo Jun criticized bluntly, picking up the most realistic apple pastry. “Just stick to making apples properly.”

“Chef Jiang also wants to innovate,” Liu Tao said as she gathered the newspapers Luo Jun had finished reading and neatly stacked them. “We should be understanding. We’re all here avoiding the war, and Chef Jiang is too.”

“We came from Shanghai, and Chef Jiang came from Beijing. Meeting across thousands of miles is fate.”

“I’m not someone avoiding war,” Luo Jun muttered, picking up another newspaper. “Tao’er, have you heard any news about your parents?”

Liu Tao shook her head with a bitter smile.

“I was sold to the troupe when I was five. So many years have passed—everything has changed. Boyan, do you not like this place? If you really don’t, we can return to Shanghai. I know you’re not used to the food here, the living conditions, and you can’t even get the newspapers and books you like.”

“Every time, we have Uncle Liang deliver a month’s worth at once. But in these chaotic times, even delivering newspapers is dangerous. I heard the concessions in Shanghai are very safe now—maybe after some time we could…”

“Wherever we go, it’s the same,” Luo Jun said, looking at the newspaper. “If we can’t find information, we’ll just pay more—didn’t you say that before? If fate brought us together with Chef Jiang here across such distances, your parents must originally be from this place. If they want to run, where could they go? Your family has no money—train tickets, ship tickets, none of them are affordable. How far could they go on foot?”

“I have time. If I can’t find them in a year, I’ll look for two years. If not two years, then three. I don’t really like the food here, but the dishes from Wu’s Restaurant and Chef Jiang’s place are passable.”

“Don’t order from Wu’s Restaurant tonight. Last time I remember Chef Jiang made something like tofu…”

“Pot-stewed tofu,” Liu Tao reminded him.

“Yes, that one. I want that for dinner. The rest, you can order according to your taste.”

“Do we need to bring our own ingredients when ordering at Chef Jiang’s place? It seems like we also have to bring our own seasonings… forget it, I’ll go eat there with you tonight.”

“Is he that poor? Doesn’t he even have money for soy sauce?”

Liu Tao smiled. “After all, Chef Jiang, like me, spends all his money on searching for people. It’s expensive to inquire about relatives these days.”

Luo Jun said he didn’t understand, shook his head, and continued reading his novel.